


Tom Riddle Is One Good-Looking Bastard

by goldenzingy46



Series: Tomarry Works [21]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Dinner, Drunkenness, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, No beta we die like illiterates, Romance, Romantic Fluff, how do I even tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29111949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenzingy46/pseuds/goldenzingy46
Summary: Tom Riddle gets mugged. A handsome stranger steps in to save him.(May or may not also feature murder, drunken shenanigans, dinner dates, and much much more.)A birthday gift to my lovely spouse!
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Series: Tomarry Works [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2091711
Comments: 20
Kudos: 117





	Tom Riddle Is One Good-Looking Bastard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HollowLies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollowLies/gifts).



Tom had been having a relatively normal day before he decided it was a good idea to go wandering down alleyways.

(Why would anyone go wandering down alleyways? Well, sometimes you have lucky days, and sometimes, if you’re a bastard like Tom, you like to test the limits of that luck.)

So, as it was, Tom was wandering down an alleyway when he was met by a man with a very long, very sharp knife.

(And this is why you don’t go wandering around in dark alleyways, even on your lucky days, because luck runs out, dimwit.)

“Your money or your life?” the man snarled.

Which, honestly, was a pretty dumb question. What kind of person chose to die, huh?

“...Which one is the better option?” Tom responded, because he was Tom Riddle, and he was a goddamn bastard.

The mugger seemed to be re-evaluating every life choice he’d ever made, but sighed and said, “If you give me your money, you get to walk out of this alive.”

Tom considered it. All things said and done, he was having a lot of fun, being alive. But then again, there was a lot less responsibility, being dead. All he had to do was stay dead, and boom! He’d be living up to everyone’s expectations.

Before he could decide, however, they were rudely interrupted by a skinny, stick-like man who was apparently trying to help.

“Is this mugging free to enter, or do I have to buy a ticket?”

Tom made his decision and kneed the knife-wielding mugger in the guts before uppercutting his chin and knocking him out.

Stickman blinked. “Oh.”

Tom picked up the mugger’s knife and looked at him. “So, do you want to murder trashhead over here or shall I?”

“What?” Stickman choked. “No murder!”

Tom blinked, and said, “I was joking.”

(But was he really?)

“I’m Harry,” Stickman, or Harry, as he claimed, said. “What are you going to do with him?”

“Hello, Harry,” he replied. “After I’ve taken Mr. Stab to the police station, would you like to meet up for a thank you dinner?”

“I- I mean, I haven’t done anything,” he said, somewhat warily. “Obviously, I would’ve, if I’d had the chance, but you’re extremely capable and had it all under control.”

Tom smiled at him. “Oh, your distraction came along just in time. Without you, I’d have been toast.”

Harry laughed, albeit a little awkwardly. “Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

“Perfect! Shall we meet at six?” Tom offered Harry a flyer for a restaurant, somewhere, scooped up the mugger’s unconscious body and strolled out.

There was a perfect spot to bury him alive, far enough out that nobody would find him, and he would never escape.

(Note to self: Never try to rob Tom Riddle.)

Harry arrived at the restaurant as Tom finished cleaning the mud from his hands, stepping out of the bathroom and offering Harry an arm.

“Shall we?” Tom said, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Of course.”

The restaurant was not the kind of restaurant Harry visited often, seeing as there was no way he could afford it. It was extremely high-end, yet Tom had somehow managed to get a reservation at such short notice.

(Blackmail really does help to ease your way in the world; so does bribery, for that matter, and murder.)

“Thank you,” Harry said, gesturing at the table with the suspiciously large bouquet of roses in the centre. “For the meal, and the night out.”

Tom smiled. “It was my pleasure.” He paused, then signalled for the waiter. “More wine?”

Harry glanced at the almost empty wine glass, considering. It was delicious wine, and no doubt worth thousands of pounds, but he was very near drunk and—

Oh, to hell with it. “Yes, _please_.”

The waiter came over, refilling their glasses. “Anything else I can do for you, sir?”

(They didn’t even _try_ and address this to Harry, but oh well.)

“Dessert, perhaps?” Tom smirked, like it was a joke Harry had yet to be in on. “Death by chocolate, please.”

The waiter bowed and hurried away.

Harry sipped his wine, unsure how to broach whether this was a date or not, when Tom stood up.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, walking in the direction of the gents, “The dessert will be here soon.”

Ah, so Tom _was_ human!

Harry debated whether or not it would be rude to check his phone on a possibly-date. Tom wasn’t technically at the table, right?

He checked his phone.

_Ron: harry. nobody has been dropped off at the police station [sent 6:03]_

_Ron: are you sure your friend said he’d take him here [sent 6:03]_

_Ron: a body has been recovered matching the description you gave me [send 6:12]_

_Ron: be careful, please [sent 6:23]_

The glass in Harry’s hand broke, red wine and bloodied glass shards hitting the table. Waiters were over in an instant, cleaning it up and providing him with a new glass, but—

Nope. Harry was not going to think about murder, he was going to enjoy his maybe-date and hopefully get laid. No murder.

Tom slipped back into his seat, frowning. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, taking a bite of his pudding. “Apparently death by chocolate was actually accurate.”

Tom laughed, eyes gleaming in the low light and—

Were those dimples?

Harry had better get laid tonight.

“I’ll get the bill, unless you want more wine?”

Yes, Harry wanted more wine. Better to be drunker and take a risky kiss then panic because of not murder and ruin a perfectly nice night out.

***

A few hours later, Tom practically carried a very drunk Harry out of the restaurant.

“You have nice cheekbones,” Harry slurred. “Pointy.”

“Thank you,” Tom said, amused.

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

“Okay, when you’re sober, perhaps.”

***

Harry woke up and groaned. “God, my head.”

Tom smirked at him. “Do you remember last night?”

Shaking his head, Harry said, “No, but by the looks of it, I’m at your house.”

Then Tom kissed him.

It lasted only a few seconds, then Tom pulled away. “Your drunk self seemed quite… infatuated with me.”

“Sober me likes you more.” A pause. “Also, did you murder someone?”

“Is that really relevant right now?”

No, it was not, and Harry kissed Tom again.

**Author's Note:**

> You could... poke your head into my [Discord server](https://discord.gg/37bXdGW)? I don't bite (much)!
> 
> Alternately, you could pop into my mess of a Tumblr [here](https://goldenzingy46.tumblr.com/), or my writing Tumblr [here](https://goldenzingy46butwriteblr.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Comments and kudos sustain me :)
> 
> [for bribe related reasons, i ask you to go and have a look at user [alfisha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alfisha)'s fics, and they are a damn good writer]


End file.
